


Can't Go Back to the Way It Was

by deerwrites



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Clubbing, Confident Kim Hongjoong, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Language, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, bc the author is, hongjoong skirt, its implied that hwa has anxiety, the yungi pairing is just on the side, theres quite a bit of that, they mess around but theres no sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerwrites/pseuds/deerwrites
Summary: “I’m sorry but, I don’t think I’m who you think I am,” Seonghwa says.The man laughs, his small body falling against Seonghwa’s chest. “Don’t mess with me like that, man. You’re not as funny as you think you are,” he says, the last part coming out heavily slurred. His fingers are now curling into the fabric of Seonghwa’s loose sweater.Placing his unclaimed hand on the man’s shoulder (he’s so small), Seonghwa manages to push him back a little. “Maybe I’m mistaken, but I really think you have me confused with someone else. I don’t know who you are.”OR: (Seonghwa is a stressed college student relying on an easy pattern to get by. The only thing that breaks his cycle of work and school are the weekly trips that him and his roommate Mingi take to the clubs of Itaewon. One night Seonghwa meets a drunken stranger who swears that he knows Seonghwa. Even though it's just a lapse of judgement on the stranger's part, Seonghwa is determined to get to know him, whether they had met each other before that night or not.)
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 15
Kudos: 114





	Can't Go Back to the Way It Was

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Thanks for stopping by, I only have a few things to say. 
> 
> 1.) I don't hardcore ship any real people, and I don't encourage anyone else to either. This was just me using their likeness, all in good fun.
> 
> 2.) I have never been to Itaewon, or any part of Korea for that matter. This is all based on my own research.
> 
> 3.) Lastly! This is the first kpop fic that I've finished and decided to share with the world, so please be sure to let me know what you thought! I love ATEEZ with all my heart so this was very fun to write. Ok! Happy reading :)

The weeks are stressful for Seonghwa. Every day is the same soul crushing, life sucking drudgery of wake up, go to class, go to work, do some homework, sleep. Rewind, fast forward, repeat. Skip. It’s a pattern that’s easy enough to follow, leg muscles getting accustomed to pulling his body across campus, his brain dragged half heartedly behind like a cat on a leash. Repetitive motions are good sometimes. They’re easy to fall into, not very complicated at all once you figure them out. But waking up at the same time every Monday and Wednesday, the same time every Tuesday and Thursday, to eat the same breakfast and take the same bus to the same campus can really wear a person down. 

The weekends are a different kind of stressful. They are also another pattern. On Fridays, Seonghwa texts Mingi _Are we on for tonight?_ before lunch, shakes his leg the entire time he eats, then sees the usual _yep :D_ as he walks to his next class. Seonghwa doesn’t work on the weekends, so he does some homework in his apartment while waiting for Mingi’s shift at the burger place to end at nine. After a bit of cleaning up (Mingi always smells of onions and pickles when he shows up at Seonghwa’s door so he lets him use his shower and his fancy soaps), they go together to the club.

Clubbing isn’t really Seonghwa’s idea of fun. Honestly, he hadn’t even considered it an option until Mingi brought it up one lazy Sunday night. Seonghwa was stressing over a poorly explained assignment when Mingi suggested from his spot on the floor, “We should go clubbing in Itaewon next weekend.” The older boy had sighed roughly, ran his hands through his already messy hair, and huffed “Okay.”

The first time they went, Seonghwa was certain he would either pass out or vomit from nerves alone. He didn’t like feeling so vulnerable, entirely out of his element like a bird inside a supermarket. The crowds of people there were different from the crowds in town or at the university. Those crowds were sterile, soft blues and greys. Turned down heads, quick and polite steps. In the parts of Itaewon the duo visit, the crowds are bright things. The night brings out good cheer, groups of friends stumbling as they laugh and grab arms and point at pretty lights. Reds, golds, violets and pinks. Seonghwa felt distracted for the first time in a long time, lost in the way music poured out swinging doors, the unfamiliar smells of tourist intended restaurants coming from every other building, the hot press of bodies against his sweater. 

The only thing that kept Seonghwa from completely losing his shit those first few nights was Mingi’s tight hold on his hand, or his wrist, or his sleeve as they moved down the streets. If Seonghwa looked uncomfortable, Mingi would make up an excuse like “It’s too hot in here”, “The music is bad”, or “These lights don’t look very flattering with your outfit”, and the two would step outside and walk around the tourist traps. After the first few outings, it got easier to adjust to spaces. After adjusting, a bit of enjoyment sprouted in his timid feet, in his swaying hips and hot huffs of breath. Seonghwa found that Mingi is fun to dance with, dramatic in his moves and stares like he is in everything else. It’s easy to get swept up in his freedom.

So they fall into this new pattern of stepping into a club, getting a feel for it, and then stepping into another. They have their favorites, of course. The one that they visit the most is a smaller club, a little bit farther away from the tourist vendors. The dance floor is small, but there’s a nice bar and places to sit down and catch your breath. The music is a good mix, and the lights flash in reds and blues and violets. It’s also just close enough to the gay village that Seonghwa’s heart races but not too close that he’s overcome with shaky nerves. The first time they’d found this club, Mingi had spotted another down the street that catered towards people like them. 

“We should go there next,” Mingi had shouted over the noises of the street. When he saw how quickly Seonghwa paled, he backtracked with a slightly amused “Or never! We could never go there, that would work too.”

It’s not that Seonghwa doesn’t want to explore the gay scene in Itaewon. It’s just that he gets so overwhelmed with a fluttery feeling in his gut every time he thinks about it that he can’t hardly stand it. Every weekend, he assures himself that one day, the two of them will go, and they’ll celebrate themselves and feel comfortable and at home with the company around them. 

This weekend is not that weekend. They’re at their usual club that’s close but not too close and Seonghwa is absolutely not thinking about his ten page essay due on Monday. Well, he is a little bit. His introduction is so weak, and he only has nine pages done so he’ll have to bullshit an entire page and add so many filler words that could get him marked down-

“Seonghwa! Did you hear me? I said I’m thirsty!” Mingi is shouting in his ear, his hand on his shoulder giving him a good shake.

“Sorry!” Seonghwa yells back. “Let’s go to the bar then.”

They squeeze their way through the crowd, the air humid from sweat and alcohol infused breaths. It’s crowded more than usual tonight, and all night Seonghwa has had to fight down the slight panic that bubbles in his stomach when he looks around and feels utterly trapped. Mingi seems to be having fun though. Since they’ve gotten there, Mingi has had his eyes trained on a cute tall guy with blue hair, and he keeps groaning to Seonghwa anytime the guy does, well, anything. The younger boy’s antics are amusing to watch, so Seonghwa keeps resisting the urge to pull him outside to catch his breath. He knows Mingi would go with him in a second if he asked, but he can’t bring himself to pull them from the scene. He’s glad that they’re moving towards the bar now, finally breaking out of the mass of bodies. The bar isn’t as crowded as he expected it to be, several stools open for the two to take. Mingi doesn’t seem interested in sitting though as he says something to the bartender and then leans back on his elbows against the table. Seonghwa asks for a water and shifts from foot to foot while they wait.

“Are you okay?” Mingi asks, tilting his head towards Seonghwa, who nods. 

“Yeah, it’s not too bad tonight,” he says. He doesn’t think he’s lying. The normal jitters are there, but he’s been spacing out a lot. He’s stressed from school, he knows, but he really thought coming out tonight would help with… something.

Mingi nods, smiling gently. “Good. Well, you know we can go whenever-” Mingi starts to say, but he gets cut off by a new voice.

“There you are!”

Fingers pull and twist with Seonghwa’s and it takes him a disorienting minute to realize that Mingi is not the one holding his hand. He looks to his right as a body all but crashes against him and sees a boy that he has absolutely never met before in his life. His dark hair is ruffled and falling into his shiny eyes, his cheeks and ears pink with blush. He looks completely out of it as he uses his other hand to trail his fingers up Seonghwa’s arm, causing goosebumps to form a path. “Haven’t seen you in a while, ’m so glad you’re here,” the man says, his words bumping into each other.

Seonghwa glances at Mingi with wide eyes and finds that his friend looks equally as confused. “I’m sorry but, I don’t think I’m who you think I am,” Seonghwa says.

The man laughs, his small body falling against Seonghwa’s chest. “Don’t mess with me like that, man. You’re not as funny as you think you are,” he says, the last part coming out heavily slurred. His fingers are now curling into the fabric of Seonghwa’s loose sweater.

Placing his unclaimed hand on the man’s shoulder (he’s so _small_ ), Seonghwa manages to push him back a little. “Maybe I’m mistaken, but I really think you have me confused with someone else. I don’t know who you are.”

For a terrifying moment, it looks like the stranger is going to cry. His eyebrows pull together, his eyes look more watery, but then he just pouts. Seonghwa looks up at Mingi again hoping for some kind of guidance but his friend just shrugs, his eyes still wide. 

Seonghwa sighs, feeling way out of his element. “Let’s… let’s step outside together, ok?” It takes a second of what looks like the smaller man weighing his options, but he nods and pushes his face into Seonghwa’s chest. After promising Mingi that he’ll be back soon, Seonghwa skirts around the outside of the crowd, gently pushing the man to be in front of him so he doesn’t lose him.

Finally they’re sitting on the empty curb outside the club, the music sounding muffled and distant, and Seonghwa feels like he can breathe. Now he can deal with… whatever this is that’s happening. He watches the other man with concern, who wraps his arms tightly around himself, watching his breath float away in the clear night.

“Cold?” Seonghwa asks. It is a bit chilly tonight, which is why he dressed appropriately in a sweater and jeans. The stranger, however, doesn’t look like he checked the weather before going out. He’s wearing a short sleeved black shirt that's a little too small on him (surprisingly), the bottom of the shirt ending before the waistline of his ripped jeans. He nods in response to Seonghwa’s question, and against his better judgement, the taller man opens his arms for the other to huddle into.

Once they’re settled, the stranger presses his cold, pretty nose into the side of Seonghwa’s neck, who makes a valiant effort not to shiver. He clears his throat and asks softly, “What’s your name, baby?” in an attempt to sound comforting. 

The other man hums, almost like a cat purring. “Baby. That’s my name. If that’s what it takes for you to call me baby again then that’s my name.”

Seonghwa surprises himself at the laugh he lets out and he feels the man smile against the exposed skin where his shoulder meets his neck. Seconds pass with him breathing softly against Seonghwa’s skin before he slurs “You sure you don’t know me?”

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t.” He should feel uncomfortable, he thinks. A random man is being very touchy with him, acting like they knew each other before tonight. But he’s not. He feels… protective of him. Maybe it’s because he’s drunk and vulnerable, and Seonghwa would want someone to take care of him if he was as gone as this man is. He doesn’t want to think about what could have happened if the small man went up to the wrong kind of person.

The man grumbles something under his breath before pulling away from Seonghwa but he keeps their arms linked together. His eyes are just a little shiny and unfocused as he says, “I’m Hongjoong. Kim Hongjoong.”

“Ok, Hongjoong. I think it’s time for you to be heading home. Is there someone I can call for you?” Seonghwa finds it a little odd that someone would come to a club in Itaewon, especially one close to the gay scene, by themself. It feels like something you’d do with your friends or a partner. But if Hongjoong was able to wander up to Seonghwa without a worried friend trailing after him, he must have come alone. Or he has shitty friends.

The music gets louder all at once, and then it fades again. Seonghwa turns his head to see who opened the door, and it’s Mingi. He approaches the two carefully like Hongjoong is an animal he might spook. “Is everything ok?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” Seonghwa says. “I’m trying to get him to tell me who I can call to pick him up.”

“You take me home,” Hongjoong says, his voice small and muffled as he presses his face into the side of Seonghwa’s arm.

Mingi and him exchange more panicked looks, neither of them quite sure of what to do. Seonghwa brought his car tonight and parallel parked along a road, but he doesn’t want to leave Mingi. And how is this guy so trusting? They don’t know each other. It isn’t smart to let a random stranger drive you home. Although, if Seonghwa doesn’t take him and if he doesn’t catch a bus, he could wind up asking someone else to take him home. And on that unsettling thought…

“Yeah. Yeah, ok, I’ll drive you home. Mingi? Are you ok if I leave and then come back? I swear I won’t be gone long.”

Mingi smiles big enough that his gums show. “I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine! I’ll keep myself entertained. Text me when you’re on your way back,” he says, to which Seonghwa nods.

“Will you help me get him up?”

Mingi and Seonghwa pull Hongjoong to his feet and walk him to Seonghwa’s car, the small boy muttering something quietly between them. Mingi leaves with a salute once Hongjoong is seated in the passenger side and Seonghwa watches until his friend disappears back into the club. 

“Where do you live?” Seonghwa asks as his car cuts on. He glances over at Hongjoong, who is curled up with his knees to his chest, his shoes on the floor and his socked feet resting on the edge of his seat. His eyes are drooping, which isn’t ideal for Seonghwa who can’t find his way hardly anywhere without a GPS.

“Just start driving, I’ll tell you when to turn.”

So that’s what they do. Seonghwa drives down dark roads that are mainly empty since it’s almost two in the morning and he waits for Hongjoong to mumble “left at the light” or “right before the thrift store”. It feels like they’re out of the city, away from all of the noise and lights, when Hongjoong says, “That tall green-ish building there. That’s where my apartment is.”

It’s a chore getting Hongjoong out of the car and walking towards the building. He complains about having to put his shoes back on, and when Seonghwa takes his hand to help him out of his seat he’s almost pulled in. “I don’t think I’ll fit in that seat with you,” he chides gently, to which Hongjoong pouts. 

It takes some coordination and patience (especially with the stairs), but they finally get to a door that Hongjoong promises is his. “C 12. That’s me. Home sweet home.” He shoves his hand down the front pocket of his jeans, rummaging around until he pulls out a ring with three keys. Seonghwa watches with blossoming fondness as Hongjoong tries to fit a key into the hole, giggling each time he misses. Seonghwa reaches over and stills his hand, guiding him until the key is sliding in and turning. He stares for a bit too long at the slight size difference of their hands while Hongjoong laughs and thanks him.

“Do you wanna come in?” the smaller man asks, a closed mouth smile at his lips as he leans unsteadily against his door frame.

“I don’t think so. You need to rest, you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow morning.” Seonghwa ignores the way his heart is beating fast, the beginnings of the anxiety tremors starting in his fingers. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, but he does know that this is something very out of character for him. Maybe his body is finally catching up with everything that has happened tonight.

“I’ll feel like hell… when you’re not here when I wake up,” Hongjoong says in a coy voice, his posture wavering a bit. 

Seonghwa feels his cheeks grow warm, even though he knows that drunk flirting hardly ever means anything. This man could very well be heterosexual, afterall. “Go inside, Hongjoong. Have some water, get some sleep.”

“Alright, mom,” he says, taking a couple steps back so he’s standing on the threshold of his small apartment. “Thank you for driving me home, man. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Seonghwa’s heart does a funny pull at that. He knows they won’t see each other later. Hongjoong will just be one of those strangers that he thinks about for maybe a month, and then he’ll disappear into the collective of people that occupy the city. Or Seonghwa will think about him for the rest of his life and feel a sharp pang in his chest as each thought passes. He pushes all of that to the back of his mind though, smiles, and says, “See you later.”

-

The next week, Seonghwa has trouble focusing on his studies. When he tries to read the required chapters for his history class, images of white tooth smiles and sharp cheekbones fill his mind. When he’s taking notes in physics, he thinks about the press of small fingers against his own. When he’s at home on his couch, Mingi at his usual spot sprawled out on the floor, he spaces out more than usual. The notes he’s taking from a required reading are not as interesting as his grade begs them to be. 

“Do you want to go out again Friday?” Seonghwa asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

Mingi looks over at him, a little surprised by his sudden outburst. “Uh… yeah. Sure. Same place?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” Mingi lays his head back down against the carpet, his hands folded over his stomach. He looks like he usually does when he wants to say something, so Seonghwa puts his pen down and waits. 

“What happened with that guy last time? Did he say anything when you got him home?”

Seonghwa’s palms get sweaty and he wipes them on his pants. “Not really. He just said thanks and he’d see me later.”

“See you later?” Mingi echos. “What, did you give him your number or something?”

“No, of course not. He was so drunk I doubt he’d remember whose number it is.” Seonghwa pauses, thinking back on that night. “I didn’t even tell him my name.”

The two friends fall into silence again and Seonghwa picks his pen up, hoping to gather some motivation. None comes to him, so he rolls his pen along the path from his index finger to his thumb over and over again. Maybe if he reads over the article again, if he just skims over it he might see something new that he hadn’t considered-

“He was pretty, don’t you think? Minus the drunkenness.” Mingi says, looking up at his friend to gauge his reaction.

Seonghwa keeps his eyes on his papers. “Yeah, he was pretty.”

-

Friday, they’re at the same club again. Mingi’s unaware object of attention and affection doesn’t seem to be there tonight, so he mopes around an amused Seonghwa while they sip their drinks at the bar.

“Have you even talked to him yet?” he asks.

Mingi groans again. “No! But we’ve made eye contact. Several times.”

“Accidental eye contact is awkward at best, it’s not flirting,” Seonghwa says with a teasing smile. He isn’t actually trying to belittle his friend’s efforts, he just thinks it’s fun to tease him. It’s been awhile since he’s gotten to see Mingi swoon over someone.

Mingi huffs and crosses his arms, his voice louder when he says, “It wasn’t accidental! It was quite intentional, actually.” He lifts his head so that he can look down on Seonghwa even more, over the bridge of his nose. “Not that you would know since you were outside with a cute boy.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t witness you glancing over your shoulder every second like a creep.”

Mingi opens his mouth to retort something sarcastic back but then closes it quickly, his eyebrows drawing together. “Hey,” he says to Seonghwa, his eyes darting to the side.

Seonghwa turns to follow his gaze and there’s Hongjoong, slipping past a couple so that he can press into Seonghwa’s side. He looks… different. Less light and wasted, a darker look on his face.

“Oh, hello again,” Seonghwa says as Hongjoong wraps his arms around his waist. He can feel the cold press of the other man’s bracelets through his flannel.

“Do you… can I stay here for a minute? Just a minute, and then I won’t bother you again, I promise,” he says slowly, like it’s hard to get the words out. Seonghwa wonders how many drinks he’s had today compared to last time.

“Uh, yeah,” Seonghwa concedes without much thought. “What’s going on, Hongjoong? Are you okay?” he asks, and Mingi scoots closer to try and hear the small man’s response as well.

Before Hongjoong can answer (it didn’t look like he was going to anyways), there’s a loud shout and then another man is joining their odd group. He’s a bit taller than Seonghwa, with light colored hair and a mean face. Something dark twists in his gut.

“Hongjoong, get off of him. We’re leaving,” the man says, his voice low but still managing to be loud.

“Leave me alone, asshole,” Hongjoong barks, turning to face the man but keeping his arms around Seonghwa. “I’m hanging out with my friends, I don’t want to see you.”

The man looks at Seonghwa, addressing him when he asks, “Do you know him?”

Seonghwa doesn’t trust himself to say anything useful, so he swallows thickly and nods.

The man looks back to Hongjoong. “What are your friends’ names then, huh? Tell me their names if you know them.”

Seonghwa feels Mingi place a hand on his arm, a careful reassurance and support. Seonghwa is trying very hard not to shake. He doesn’t like confrontation, and this is the definition of a confrontation.

“Why, so you can stalk them too? Fuck off, Jeonghoon, I’m not tellin’ you,” Hongjoong is quick with his reply, his voice dripping with venom. He squeezes Seonghwa tighter and Seonghwa can feel the slight tremor in his arms.

The man, Jeonghoon apparently, takes a deep breath, clenches his jaw, and starts, “Hongjoong, I just need to talk to you alone, if you could just…” He fades out, obviously waiting for Hongjoong to agree. There’s an awkward moment of tense silence, and then Jeonghoon takes a step forward, reaching his hand out.

Seonghwa automatically moves back, pushing into the bar. As Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong back with him, Mingi moves forward in front of them. “Back the fuck off, man, he doesn’t want to go with you. Take the hint and leave us alone, alright?”

There’s another beat of silence, and then Jeonghoon scoffs and rubs the back of his neck. “Whatever. Have fun with your friends, Hongjoong,” he says, sounding the farthest thing from sincere. Hongjoong glares until Jeonghoon is out of sight, disappearing into the crowd.

Hongjoong sighs, his body going limp as Seonghwa wraps his arms around him. “I want to go home. I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to go home.” 

Seonghwa’s heart gives a painful squeeze at how small Hongjoong’s voice is. He rubs his hands up and down his back, trying to calm him down. “I can… I can take you home. Let me take you home.”

“We can take you home,” Mingi interjects softly. “I don’t want to be here alone if that guy is still here,” he lowers his voice and says this directly into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa nods so that Mingi knows he heard him.

Hongjoong pulls away and Seonghwa drops his arms so that he doesn’t feel trapped. “No, I can take a bus. You guys don’t have to leave just because of me.” He roughly rubs at his eyes and Seonghwa has to stop himself from grabbing his wrists or telling him he’s going to hurt his eyes. His cheeks are red, but Seonghwa can’t tell if he’s flushed from the uncomfortable encounter or if it’s the alcohol that he’s had.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” Seonghwa says.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to be indirectly hanging out with that creep anyways,” Mingi adds, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. 

Hongjoong takes a minute to think, his eyes darting over the crowd, probably trying to find Joongheon. He shuts his eyes again, taking a controlled breath through his mouth. “Ok. Please take me home.” 

They make it out of the club and into Seonghwa’s car without seeing Joongheon, which feels like a cold wave of relief to Seonghwa. When they’re pulling out of the parking spot and driving down dark roads, the relief increases until he feels almost exhausted with it.

They drive in silence for a while, the sounds of Seonghwa’s tires over the road and the air rushing in from Mingi’s cracked window providing a barrier from anything being awkward and tense. It dawns on Seonghwa as he takes a left that Hongjoong still doesn’t know their names.

“I’m Seonghwa, by the way. And that’s Mingi,” he says, gesturing from himself to the back seat. Mingi leans forward and gives a little wave when Hongjoong looks back at him. The smaller man smiles. “Sorry I didn’t tell you the first time we met,” Seonghwa says.

“Doubt I would’ve remembered,” he says, looking out the window. “I can’t remember much from then anyways. I’m sorry if I did or said something that made you uncomfortable.”

“No, you were fine,” Seonghwa says, remembering gentle fingers trailing up his arm, teasing words that made his skin warm. “Did you… did you have anything to drink tonight?” he asks carefully.

Hongjoong hums. “Not as much as I usually do but more than I should have.” He laughs bitterly. “That asshole interrupted my attempt to get wasted.”

Seonghwa squeezes his steering wheel a couple times before asking “Is he your boyfriend?” He isn’t sure how much he can pry, or if he's even allowed to.

Hongjoong tenses in his seat, glancing at Seonghwa quickly and then looking back at his lap. “Um…”

“We’re both queer,” Mingi adds quickly and loudly. “If you were scared we’d give you shit over it.” 

Hongjoong glances at Seonghwa, who nods. “Yeah. Well, no,” Hongjoong says roughly. “He’s my ex. We only dated for like, two months before I realized he’s a piece of shit. He was always talking down to me, telling me when I can and can’t go out. I don’t put up with that, so I left him and told him not to reach out to me anymore. We can all see that didn’t exactly work out.”

The three fall into silence again, and then Mingi says “What a dick.” Hongjoong barks a laugh.

“Congrats on getting rid of him,” Seonghwa says, keeping his eyes on the road to keep his mind occupied from overthinking everything he wants to say. “You deserve someone better than that.”

Seonghwa can feel Hongjoong’s eyes on him, and when he glances at him he can’t read the expression on his pretty features. “Thank you,” he says gently, and then he turns back to look out the window.

Seonghwa eases up from his tight grip on the steering wheel, the foam slowly unwarping back to its original form.

At Hongjoong’s apartment complex, he assures them that he can walk to his apartment on his own. Seonghwa makes him walk around the parking lot before he deems him stable enough to climb the flights of stairs by himself.

“Thanks again, guys,” he says, already taking a few steps back as Seonghwa and Mingi watch him from the car. “I’ll… maybe I’ll see you around,” he says almost shyly, looking down at his boots. The scarce lighting in the parking lot makes it impossible to see his face, so Seonghwa and Mingi wave, unsure of what to say.

When they’re pulling out of the parking lot, Mingi says, “I hope we see him again. I like him.” He’s sitting in the passenger seat now, having switched when Hongjoong got out. 

Seonghwa nods and carefully says, “I do too.”

-

Seonghwa might be going a little insane. 

It’s been a hot minute since he’s liked someone in this way. And he does like Hongjoong in that way, he thinks. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to him. Hongjoong is gorgeous, everything about him draws Seonghwa in, his sharp features, his jewelry clad hands, his soft looking dark hair. He knows he’s only met him twice, but every day he wakes up and goes to sleep thinking that he wants to see him again. He wants to have long conversations with him about all the things that do and don’t matter. He wants to know if Hongjoong really did know him before that first night they met at the club.

So when he and Mingi go to the club the next Friday and they don’t see Hongjoong, it feels a lot like having your birthday on a normal day, going to school and working instead of celebrating. He tries to distract himself by listening to Mingi say “I’m really going to talk to him this time” ( _His boy is here_ , Seonghwa thinks, unfairly bitter), but it’s hard to get his energy to match that of the club when the dull ache of disappointment continues to grow in his chest as time passes. The following Friday passes exactly the same, except this time Mingi broke away from Seonghwa for a moment to introduce himself to the blue haired boy. (“His name is Yunho! How cute is that?”)

Another week drags by and Seonghwa can’t help but look forward to going to the club despite the recent let downs. There’s still the anticipation, the _What if he’s there?_ It makes him feel on edge, but in a good way for once. 

Around five o’clock, he gets a text from Mingi saying that he’s had a killer headache that’s kept him in bed all day. He won’t be joining Seonghwa if he’d been planning to go out, but he encourages him to go without him. 

_Go by myself??_ he texts back. _Mingi, have you forgotten who I am?_

_You’ll be fine,, just don’t drink anything alcoholic if you’re driving there and have a good time :p_

Seonghwa almost texts back with a retort that he’d never be dumb enough to drink and drive, but instead he pockets his phone and contemplates his options. If he goes by himself and Hongjoong isn’t there… he doesn’t know what he’d do with himself. Obviously he should get a drink and dance, but thinking about doing that by himself makes him want to throw up. But if he doesn’t go, and Hongjoong _is_ there…

Well, he just couldn’t live with that, could he? He’ll go, and if Hongjoong isn’t there, he’ll get a drink and low key people watch. It’ll be fine. 

With his mind made up, Seonghwa thinks about what he’ll wear later as he walks through campus. 

-

It’s crowded again tonight. The music sounds louder too, and the lights are more chaotic. Or maybe Seonghwa’s stress of being alone just makes everything seem more overwhelming than it actually is. Either way, the atmosphere has his skin itching and he’s starting to regret the black turtleneck. He’s always been practical in some senses (cold weather means turtleneck sweater) and impractical in others (turtleneck will feel a little suffocating, increasing anxiety). (Take care of a drunk man who claims he knows you.) (Think about said man for the entire month.) 

He makes his way to the bar and places a drink order, to which the bartender smiles and nods. When she comes back, she asks, “No friend tonight?”

Seonghwa shakes his head, suddenly shy. “No, he’s got a headache.”

“Shame,” the bartender says. 

Seonghwa just nods and smiles, not at all equipped with the ability to communicate with a bartender. She’s probably very nice, but Seonghwa turns and takes a slow sip from his drink. He isn’t looking to get drunk tonight, especially since he’s alone. He never comes to the club to get drunk though. He doesn’t like feeling out of control, especially in a public place. The last time he got properly drunk was with Mingi in their apartment last year. Finals had kicked their asses, and they just wanted to take the edge off. That was also the night that Mingi came out as pansexual to him, and Seonghwa had to double check with him in the morning to make sure he wasn’t just fucking with him while he was drunk. They’d both cried and hugged each other after Seonghwa told him that he was bi. It drew them closer than they had been before.

A spark of fondness rushes through him, so Seonghwa pulls out his phone and sends a quick _How are you feeling? Not as fun here without you, hon_ before slipping his phone back into his front pocket. 

When he looks back up at the crowd, he makes eye contact with someone dancing, and his entire body feels shot with electricity. It’s Hongjoong, and damn does he look good. He’s wearing a crop top and a jean jacket paired with ripped black skinny jeans. Seonghwa thinks he can see a fishnet pattern through the holes, and it travels up his waist and stomach and disappears under his crop top. The neon lights catch on his multiple ear piercings and the rings on his fingers. 

After a second of surprised eye contact, Hongjoong’s face changes, his eyes narrowing slightly and his tongue poking out from between his perfect teeth. When he jerks his head and curls a finger at Seonghwa, he’s absolutely certain he’s going to pass out. 

He doesn’t though, just puts his drink back down on the bar and carefully makes his way through the crowd towards the man he came here for. 

When Seonghwa gets close enough, Hongjoong grabs his arm and pulls him to stand in front of him. “Seonghwa!” he yells over the music, leaning forward and closer to Seonghwa’s ear. “Do you want to dance with me?” He’s been drinking, the alcohol heavy on his breath. This close to him, Seonghwa can also tell that he’s wearing eye makeup and something glittery on his cheeks.

Seonghwa’s mouth goes dry, so he nods dumbly. Hongjoong laughs, high and bright, and places Seonghwa’s arms over his shoulders. Seonghwa tenses when the other man grabs his hips, and then Hongjoong is pressing their bodies closer together and moving. 

It’s the go to dance when you’re in a tight crowd at a small club, a sort of bouncy move, hips and shoulders swaying. They’re standing so close that Hongjoong’s body keeps brushing against his and Seonghwa is trying very hard not to break this intense eye contact. He probably looks terrified. 

“Are you not hot under that sweater?” Hongjoong asks/yells, his hands giving Seonghwa’s hips a squeeze. 

Seonghwa shakes his head. “I’m fine, I run cold.”

Hongjoong smiles an absolutely wicked smile, teeth shining, and then his fingers are pushing up Seonghwa’s sweater and resting on his abdomen. The muscles there jump and tense up. Hongjoong leans in, up on his tiptoes and says right into Seonghwa’s ear, “You feel pretty hot to me.” Before he pulls away, he bites softly on Seonghwa’s earlobe and laughs at the scandalized look on his face. 

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa starts, getting ready to kill the mood. He needs his heart rate and libido to slow way down. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

Hongjoong pouts and slumps forward, his forehead resting on Seonghwa’s shoulder and his hands still exploring underneath the sweater. “I had a couple. A few. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa nods even though Hongjoong can’t see him. He runs one of his hands up Hongjoong’s neck and scratches at the base of his skull, running strands of dark brown hair between his fingers. “That’s ok, baby, you don’t have to apologize to me.”

Hongjoong’s hands stop dancing over Seonghwa’s stomach and he brings them to a rest on his lower back. “I like it when you call me that,” he says so softly that Seonghwa almost doesn’t catch it. 

“I know,” he quietly says back, like it's a secret between just the two of them. 

They stand there just a bit longer, barely moving to the music. Seonghwa is sure they look silly but he can’t bring himself to care. 

“Can you take me home?” Hongjoong asks, sounding smaller than before, and Seonghwa can’t figure out why. Seonghwa also can’t figure out why he really doesn’t mind at all staying at the club less than an hour, ready to obey the same request that Hongjoong asks of him. 

“Of course I can.”

Hongjoong’s apartment is small, smaller than Seonghwa’s. It makes sense, as Seonghwa has a roommate, but he still thinks it’s too small. Too small for a man like Hongjoong. The living room and kitchen are right next to each other, no doorway separating them. The tile of the kitchen just gives way to carpet. It’s not messy in the apartment, just looks lived in. There are a few dishes in the sink, a laptop and its charger laying on the table, a couple jackets thrown over the back of the couch. Just the clutter that comes with living.

They’re sitting on the couch now, both of them nursing cups of water. Hongjoong took off his jacket once they came in and Seonghwa is trying very hard not to stare at how his fishnet tights end at the bottom of his ribs, his crop top riding up because of his position on the couch. He decides to ask a question to distract himself. “Why weren’t you… why haven’t I seen you at the club much lately?” It comes out jumpy, like he feels like he shouldn’t be asking it.

Hongjoong slumps against the arm of the couch, shuffling and turning so that his back is against it and he’s facing Seonghwa. “I don’t live at the club, you know,” he says, that sly smile making a reappearance. Seonghwa light headedly notes that his canine teeth are sharp and perfect, like the rest of him.

Seonghwa shakes his head, back-tracking. “I didn’t mean… I just meant that I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.”

Hongjoong laughs and stretches his legs out to tuck his toes under Seonghwa’s thighs. “It’s ok, I was just teasing you. I’m there pretty much every weekend, sometimes during the week. I just…” He wiggles his toes, laughs. “I was trying to cut back on my drinking. I guess we can see how that turned out!” Hongjoong puts an arm over his eyes and groans. “I’m already starting to feel sick. You’re never around to watch the fall.”

“This is only our third time meeting, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, amused. 

Hongjoong lifts his arm up for only a second so that he can hazily glare at the other. “I know that. I think.” he says, and then he drops his arm, looking at Seonghwa like he’s trying to solve a complex problem. “Are you sure we haven’t… nevermind. Ugh, my head.” He slumps back down, his feet pushing further under Seonghwa. 

“Am I sure we haven’t what?” Seonghwa asks, lowering his voice in consideration of Hongjoong’s headache. He thinks that he knows what Hongjoong was going to ask, but he doesn’t understand why. He thought Hongjoong’s mistake of recognizing him was only brought on by the alcohol blurring his judgments. Sure, Hongjoong isn’t completely sober now, but he shouldn’t be confused.

“Nevermind,” Hongjoong sighs. “I’m sorry that every time we’ve met I’ve been a mess. The first time I was all over you before I even knew your name, the second time I used you and Mingi as human shields. And this time…” he fades out, a smile lazy on his flushed face. “I’m not sure if you were aware, but when I saw you tonight at the club…” He sits up, taking his feet out from under Seonghwa and slowly moving closer. Seonghwa stops breathing, anticipation making time slow down. 

The lamplight catches on Hongjoong’s rings as he reaches over, slender fingers threading through Seonghwa’s black hair. Before he can really process that nice feeling, Hongjoong trails his fingers down the side of Seonghwa’s neck, slipping them under the material of the turtleneck and giving it a tug. “When I saw you tonight at the club, I couldn’t stop thinking about taking you home with me. Finally feeling your hands and mouth on me.”

Seonghwa’s heart does a wonderful job of impersonating a bird freed from its cage. He’s only vaguely aware of the embarrassing whimper he let escape his lips, a little too affected by Hongjoong’s honey tone. 

“But I’m assuming… you’d want to be at the same level of alcohol-ness,” the younger man finishes eloquently while stroking the side of Seonghwa’s neck. 

Seonghwa closes his eyes and slowly breathes in and out through his mouth. “I’d rather neither of us are drunk if we ever… Uh…” Seonghwa isn’t a virgin. He’s been with enough people that he shouldn’t be this awkward about it. Maybe it’s just the fact that he’s discussing it with a slightly intoxicated person. Yeah, that’s probably it. 

Hongjoong laughs, giving Seonghwa’s earlobe a tug. “Cute. I wish I didn’t drink so much tonight. I’ve been thinking ‘bout you a lot,” he says in a sleepy tone. 

In a terrifying moment of vulnerability, Seonghwa decides to be honest. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, too.”

And maybe it wasn’t the worst decision in the world, because the soft eyes and softer smile that Hongjoong gives him feel like a dry place under the rain. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, then,” he says. 

_But are we?_ Seonghwa can’t help but wonder. Are they still only talking about sex? Or something more? Seonghwa can’t push down the desire to know him and be known by him. He feels something deeper, something that he can’t completely explain. 

Hongjoong presses the palm of his hand to his forehead, closing his eyes again. “Damn, my head really is killing me. Would it be too much to ask you to carry me to my bed?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Wait really?”

It’s a little difficult. Hongjoong is heavier than he looks, but he’s small enough that it’s easier to hook an arm under the bend of his knees and another under his armpits. 

“You’re strong,” Hongjoong murmurs, nestling his nose against the fabric on Seonghwa’s neck. The taller man just grunts, his arms already starting to burn. 

Hongjoong’s room is cozy. The walls are dark, as well as the bed spread. He has about five pillows on his bed, some placed in a way where it looks like he cuddles them when he sleeps. It makes Seonghwa’s chest ache. There’s a keyboard and a guitar in the corner farthest from the door. There’s a book and a pair of glasses on the bedside table, and it makes Seonghwa wonder if Hongjoong wears contacts during the day. 

Seonghwa places Hongjoong down on his bed gently, and before he fully pulls away the other grabs his hand and places gentle kisses on his fingers and knuckles. They feel like drops of water hitting a hot pan. 

“Will you… will you stay with me for a minute? Just until I fall asleep. I’m so tired of being home alone all the time.” 

As Hongjoong pulls a pillow close to his chest and looks up with tired, shiny eyes, Seonghwa knows he’s too weak to say no. “Yeah, I’ll stay for a bit.”

So he sits on the ground next to the bed, turned around so that he can pet Hongjoong’s hair. He occasionally drags his fingers down to run them over the shell of his ear and play with the multiple piercings there. Hongjoong makes that contented cat sound again. 

“I feel bad…” Hongjoong starts, his voice thick. “You say you don’t know me, but you take care of me like this. I don’t get it.” His eyes are closed but his eyebrows are pulled down, like he’s upset or thinking about something. 

Seonghwa hums, unsure of what to say. He doesn’t quite understand it himself. He’s always been one to take care of his friends, but someone that he barely knows? 

Hongjoong is continuing, almost whispering now. “I thought I knew you before. Maybe I saw you on the street or something, in passing. Like one of those strangers that you can’t seem to forget.”

Seonghwa gently tugs on Hongjoong’s hooped earring. “Maybe.”

“I don’t know, I just thought for sure that I knew you before. I feel like I was supposed to know you,” the smaller man says it like it’s something that’s bothering him. Like a specific word he can’t remember or the next set of lyrics to a song stuck in his head. 

And for probably the one hundredth time that night, Seonghwa feels another part of the walls he had long built up start to fall away. “Know me _now_. You can know me now.”

Hongjoong’s eyes are shut, the sparkles on his eyelids more obvious this close up in the still room. He’s quiet for so long that Seonghwa thinks he’s fallen asleep. He should probably go soon, if that’s the case. But then he speaks, voice quiet and low. “Next Friday night, will you meet me at The Rapture?”

That takes Seonghwa by surprise. “In The Hill?” He still hasn’t been in the gay part of Itaewon yet. Mingi hasn’t asked again since that first time, and Seonghwa doesn’t have it in him to bring it up. Just saying it out loud sends a dull wave of anxiety through him. Hongjoong hums in sleepy confirmation. 

“Sure, I’ll see you there.”

It takes a few more minutes for Hongjoong to fall asleep, but when he does, Seonghwa quietly lets himself out, locking the doorknob before shutting the door behind him. He was tempted to hang around until the morning. Tend to Hongjoong’s impending hangover and cook him breakfast in his tiny kitchen while they talk about their lives outside of the night scene. But he wasn’t invited to spend the night, so he hurries to his car to get out of the cold.

He checks his phone when he gets in his car. Mingi had texted him an hour ago saying _It’s a dull ache now instead of a rhythmic pulsing. Sorry you’re alone, hopefully you won’t be for long ;)_ and then five minutes ago he said _I’m assuming you found him… have fun ;) ;)_ which was way too many winky faces for Seonghwa’s liking. 

He texts back, _Nothing like that happened. Coming home now_.

“You went to his apartment, but you didn’t get his number?” Mingi yells when Seonghwa is back in their apartment. He winces after his outburst, the remnants from his headache keeping him in check. 

“Why don’t you go to sleep?” Seonghwa grumbles. “I already told you everything that happened, now go to sleep.”

Instead, Mingi follows Seonghwa into his bedroom. “I just can’t believe you got to spend some one-on-one time with the cute stranger you have some weird connection with and you didn’t even get his number. You didn’t suck face and you didn’t get his number.”

Seonghwa cringes and pulls some pajama pants out of his drawer. “Don’t say ‘suck face’, that sounds just awful. And I may not have gotten his number but we’re meeting at The Rapture next Friday. So. That’s something.” He tries to say it casually but it doesn’t sound right to his ears. 

Mingi gasps from his spot on Seonghwa’s bed. “You’re actually going into the gay district? Can I come?”

“You want to third wheel?” Seonghwa asks, just wanting to shower and crash into bed. Now that he’s said it, calling Mingi the “third wheel” sounds a lot like this thing happening between him and Hongjoong could be a date. Is agreeing to meet someone somewhere a date? Hongjoong hadn’t asked him out, he just asked to meet. Friends meet. Coworkers, acquaintances, family members meet. What even are they? They’re not really friends, but they’re not quite strangers. 

“I wouldn’t third wheel,” Mingi says, interrupting Seonghwa’s internal dialogue. “I could invite Yunho.” When Seonghwa looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, the younger looks shy. “I got his number the last time I talked to him. We’ve been texting.”

Seonghwa smiles and Mingi fidgets. It’s endearing. “Good for you, man. Yeah, of course you can come too. And Yunho.” The company will either make him more awkward or help calm his nerves. He’s willing to wager it if it means he’ll stop holding Mingi back from seeing the gay clubs in Itaewon. 

Mingi smiles a big smile that shows his gums and makes his eyes shut. “Ah, I’m so excited! This’ll be a great, gay time. Oh, I’m already planning my outfit in my head.”

“Great,” Seonghwa says, getting whiplash from how quickly his emotions keep changing. “Now will you please let me shower?”

-

If it was bad before for Seonghwa to just go along with his life after the first few times he met Hongjoong, it’s almost unbearable now. He can still feel the ghost of his hands over his stomach, the sting of his teeth on his ear. He wants him to play with his hair and touch his neck again. Finals are coming up in a little under a month, and it takes every one of Seonghwa’s brain cells to keep his attention on his lectures instead of thinking about what Hongjoong’s mouth tastes like or what sounds he would make if they were alone together. 

He thinks sometimes that he’s putting too much into this, romanticizing it too much. He does that a lot. He’s never really had much time for a relationship beyond sex, so he use to daydream up a wild and consuming romance with the handsome motorcyclist he saw while crossing the street, or imagine the softest morning with the bashful girl he accidentally bumped into at the campus cafe. When those would eventually fade out of his mind, he’d forget about romance for a while until the familiar cravings of intimacy tugged at him again.

This time, he’s sure this is going to consume him. Even if this evening with Hongjoong goes horribly wrong, he could imagine them together for months on end afterwards, and that scares him. How would he be able to forget him after everything that’s happened? After he’s heard him whisper soft and vulnerable, after he’s seen glasses on his bedside table, after he’s felt his lips on his skin? So he can’t stop himself from putting too much on this next outing. It feels like he’s been watching someone paint with long strokes and he’s waiting for the beautiful picture. Or like he was too slow to react to the mug falling from the cupboard, watching as gravity pulls it to the tiled floor.

So now Seonghwa is sitting on his bed, staring into his open closet. They’re going to the club _tonight_ and yet Seonghwa still feels like he can put it off forever. He wants to be there already, but also he’d be content to sit on his bed and zone out for the next few years. 

Mingi pokes his head through the door after another minute of Seonghwa glaring at his sweaters and asks, “Hey, uh, what’s up?”

Seonghwa shrugs. “Nothing much. You?”

“Oh, you know, just finishing getting ready. Me and my best friend are going to a gay club tonight to hang out with super hot men,” the younger deadpans. 

“Oh, is that so?” Seonghwa responds half heartedly, not keen on playing along. 

“Seonghwa!” Mingi groans, dragging his feet like a toddler as he enters the room. “It’s already nine o’clock and you’re still sitting there in your fucking button up and dress pants. Shower! Get changed! Brush your fucking teeth!”

“I don’t know what to wear,” Seonghwa says helplessly. 

Mingi clicks his tongue as he walks over to the closet and starts rifling through his clothes. Seonghwa gets hit with flying fabric, sputtering as Mingi idly throws things in his direction. 

Instead of scolding the younger, he holds the clothes out in front of him. 

“It’s too cold to wear this tank top, it’s almost see through.” It’s one he only wears once every blue moon. It’s a white tank top made out of something like silk, and it’s almost transparent. The black pants that Mingi threw are more appropriate for the weather. 

“It’s going to be like, seventeen degrees, you’ll be fine. But if you do want to wear a jacket, wear your leather one, it looks good on you.” Seonghwa starts to mutter a thanks but Mingi is already turning away and digging through Seonghwa’s dresser. 

“Ah!” he yells like he found something he was looking for. And he _did_ find something. He turns around, dangling a long silver chain from his finger. “Belly chain time.”

Seonghwa blushes. “I was hoping you forgot I bought that.” 

“Impossible. It’ll look so good on you, your waist is so tiny, ” Mingi says as he pulls more jewelry from the drawer and hands the chains to Seonghwa. “Wear that choker, it’ll match the belly chain.”

The chains sparkle in Seonghwa’s hands, winking at him in a challenge. “No one is going to see the belly chain anyways, why does it matter if they match?”

Mingi raises an eyebrow at him, trying to hold back a smirk. He’s not very successful. “Oh, _no one_ is going to see it? Come on, hyung, have a little more faith in yourself than that. Now, hurry up! The night isn’t going to wait up on you to get yourself sorted out.”

And with those words of wisdom, he leaves Seonghwa to stare at his clothes. 

Being out isn’t as bad as getting ready to go out, in Seonghwa’s experienced opinion. It’s different preparing for something than actually going through with that something, because beforehand you have all this time to think about what could go wrong. When you’re going through with it though, there’s nothing you can do but experience it. You let it happen.

Seonghwa is letting this happen. He’s meeting Hongjoong tonight with the intention of them meeting each other. It’s not Seonghwa showing up and hoping to catch a glimpse of the other. It’s Hongjoong saying he wants to see him, and Seonghwa saying he wants to see him too. They both now know of their attraction towards each other, and that fact makes something hot and tingly race across Seonghwa’s skin as him and Mingi push through the crowd, going to find Yunho first. 

This club is a bit smaller than the one they usually go to. The crowd is different, too. There’s boys dancing with boys, girls dancing with girls, and people who look like they could pass for either or neither gender. Everything about the atmosphere feels different. It feels… safer, but also more nerve wracking at the same time. The walk to the club felt the same way. There was art painted along the walls of the alley as the two walked down the road. There were people laughing and smiling at others who passed. There were flags and streamers and lanterns of every color decorating almost every establishment. Seonghwa felt his heart climb higher up his throat at every pride flag he saw in a window or hanging over a railing. 

It was easy enough to find Yunho. He was waiting just inside the door and waved excitedly when he saw Seonghwa and Mingi. His height and bright blue hair didn’t hurt either. Finding Hongjoong, however, is a different story. Even though the club is smaller, the crowd is dense, and the loud music and bright lavender and pink lights are affecting Seonghwa’s ability to properly take in his surroundings. He curses himself for never getting the man’s number. 

“What does he look like?” Yunho half shouts, leaning down a little so Seonghwa can hear him better. 

“He’s… small. Kind of wavy dark hair that almost covers his eyes,” Seonghwa starts to explain. 

“Looks like a pixie to me!” Mingi yells, and Seonghwa can’t decide if that’s helpful or not. 

So the three stand there near the entrance, looking like idiots as they slowly turn their heads and as Seonghwa occasionally rises onto his tip-toes. 

Before long, a pair of arms are wrapping around Seonghwa’s waist, and he turns around before he lets the panic spread. He’s greeted by Hongjoong’s hesitant smile and kind eyes, and his body automatically releases its tension. 

“Hey,” Hongjoong says a little too softly for the volume in the club. “Sorry I didn’t see you come in, it’s um… a little hard to see over these crowds, you know?”

It makes Seonghwa laugh, his chest bubbly. Then Hongjoong drops his arms and turns to Yunho and Mingi. “I bet you two don’t have that problem! Donate a couple of those inches to the less fortunate, huh?” 

The other boys laugh, and Mingi uses the moment to drape and arm over Yunho’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll do the sightseeing for you if you need us to,” he says, his charming eye smile on full display. “Or you could get Seonghwa to put you on his shoulders. I bet he wouldn’t mind your legs around his head.”

“Yah! Mingi!” Seonghwa scolds, a bit mortified, but Hongjoong just laughs bright and loud. 

“That’s ok,” Hongjoong says, wrapping an arm around Seonghwa’s lower back again. “I’ve got all the sights I need to see right here.” And yeah, it’s so cheesy, but it makes Seonghwa’s heart flutter anyways. 

“Whenever y’all are done being gross, do you want to dance?” Mingi asks, effectively ruining the moment. 

Seonghwa finds that he doesn’t mind the crowd. For once, he doesn’t feel like everyone’s eyes are on him, judging his every move. All he needs is one person’s eyes on him to make him feel both grounded and floaty at the same time. The close crowds are also a great excuse to be pressed up against Hongjoong, thighs touching and arms draped over each other. Mingi and Yunho are close by somewhere, and Seonghwa is trying not to worry about his friend too much. He’s a grown man, and he has Yunho. Although what if Yunho isn’t as sweet as he looks, and-

“Hey.” There’s a tug at Seonghwa’s belt loops and he’s snapped back into the moment. Hongjoong is looking at him with amusement. “Where are you? You seem a bit distracted.”

Guilt climbs up his throat. “Sorry, I do that sometimes. I just can’t seem to stop thinking.”

“That’s ok,” Hongjoong says, and he actually sounds like he means it. “I get spacey sometimes too. Guess I’ll just have to work extra hard to keep your attention on me.”

“Oh, no you don’t have to do anything else, I’m just…” Seonghwa doesn’t really know what he plans on saying to the man looking at him with eyes fonder than he knows how to deal with. Instead, he just smiles and squeezes Hongjoong’s hips. “I forgot to tell you that you look… really nice tonight.” He would have rather said _You look so good I could eat you whole_ but he figured that would be too weird and intense. But he does look that good. He’s wearing a form fitting long sleeve black shirt and a pleated red plaid skirt over black jeans. He looks a bit emo, and it’s been making Seonghwa’s head spin for the past twenty minutes they’ve been at the club. Since he’d seen Hongjoong show up in a skirt, Seonghwa hasn’t stopped thinking about being alone with him later. It’s distracting in the best way.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong says, looking a little bashful. Or maybe it was just an act, because then he says with wide, innocent eyes, “You look like the beginning of a wet dream.”

And well, Seonghwa promptly chokes on his own spit at that. A very attractive and cool response to such a suggestive compliment. “Thanks,” he says roughly, attempting to move on past that near death experience. He’d like to keep up the mood if he can, so he brings himself to ask, “Any of yours, or are we just speaking in general?”

Hongjoong’s lip curls up in a smile, his teeth showing just the slightest. “Of course they’re mine, I can’t know what anyone else is dreaming about.” He looks from one side to the other, observing the crowd around him. “Maybe someone has seen you around Itaewon enough that you appear in their dreams. If I didn’t have you here in front of me I’d be jealous. Is that wrong of me?”

Seonghwa hums, knowing the sound is swallowed by the heavy pulse of the bass that vibrates through his bones. “Not wrong, just a little silly since this is all hypothetical.” 

“You think I’m silly?” Hongjoong asks, an eyebrow raising. He’s teasing, Seonghwa knows, but it still sounds like a challenge. 

“I didn’t say that,” Seonghwa says, lightly flicking at one of Hongjoong’s piercings. He’s gotten a bit obsessed with the hoops and studs and chains that the other man decorates his ears with. 

The music is at a constant, world shaking volume, each song indistinguishable from the last. Seonghwa is already starting to feel out of breath from the non-stop movement of his body and the bodies around him. The heat from the crowd and his own exertion is making him sweat. He might also still be incredibly nervous, the anxiety making his legs weak. If his hands weren’t on Hongjoong they’d be shaking. He hopes all of that is hidden, though. For some reason, he doesn’t want Hongjoong to know that he’s nervous. 

“If you could see my dreams,” Hongjoong says, his smooth voice almost covered by the music, “you wouldn’t think that I’m silly.” His hands move underneath the thin material of Seonghwa’s shirt like last time, and it’s just as thrilling as the taller man remembers it being. 

Hongjoong’s small hands move up his hips, over his abdomen, and then they stop, his fingers catching on the chain that rests right above Seonghwa’s navel. His eyes widen and Seonghwa’s cheeks grow warm. 

“What’s this?” he asks, his fingers moving along the chain, following its path around Seonghwa’s back and then returning to where they started above his navel. “Are you wearing a belly chain?” 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa says, taking a moment to collect himself and actually speak like a real person. “I bought it a while ago but never actually wore it. I thought you’d like it.”

Hongjoong groans and drops his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, his nails slightly digging into the taller man’s abdomen. “Tell me something to distract me so I don’t drop to my knees right now.”

Well, _that_ wasn’t exactly the response Seonghwa was expecting. It knocks the breath out of him for a minute. He can’t tell if Hongjoong is joking or not, but just in case, he decides to say “I don’t really like going to clubs.”

Hongjoong looks up, his eyebrows pulled together. “What? Then… why do you go out?”

Seonghwa shrugs, glad that his tactic worked but also suddenly very embarrassed. “I don’t really do much of anything else, besides school. Mingi likes it, so I just go along with him.” At the mention of his friend, the two look over in his direction. Mingi and Yunho are a bit further in the crowd, and they look like they’re talking loudly about something. Even though the music is too loud, Seonghwa can practically hear Mingi’s laugh when he throws his head back. 

“But last time, if I’m remembering right, you came by yourself,” Hongjoong says, pressing his body closer to Seonghwa’s. 

Seonghwa swallows, his mouth going dry. _Keep it together_. “That’s because I wanted to see you, baby.”

All of the anxiety that Seonghwa built up and held back to say those words was worth it, because the effect they have on Hongjoong is visible. He practically melts in Seonghwa’s arms, his body falling more heavily against him and a groan leaving his lips. “Not exactly distracting me from how badly I want you.”

Since he’s met Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s average time spent at clubs has decreased from a couple hours to about thirty minutes. Tonight likely isn’t going to be the outlier that changes his pattern. He’s starting to feel a bit jumpy in his skin, like everything is too much. The music is too loud, the crowd is too dense, his body is too warm. Hongjoong is too hard to resist. “Maybe I don’t want to distract you anymore.”

Hongjoong buries his face in the section between Seonghwa’s neck and shoulder again, his hands squeezing his waist. “Do you… want to go back to my apartment? I’m getting a little tired of dancing and I want to spend time with just you when I’m not drunk.”

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll send Mingi a text so he won’t be worried about us.”

Seonghwa barely manages to hit send before Hongjoong is pulling him through the crowd.

Hongjoong’s apartment looks the same as it did the last time Seonghwa was here. It’s still messy in an organized way, like too many pairs of shoes lined up on the mat by the door and blankets and jackets thrown over the back of the couch. When they walk into the living room, Hongjoong turns on a lamp instead of the overhead light, the weaker bulb easier to accept in the late night. Seonghwa slides his jacket off, placing it on the couch with all of the ones Hongjoong must have recently worn. Hongjoong watches the action with a carefully guarded expression, but Seonghwa can practically feel the nervous energy bouncing around them.

He sits down, patting the space next to him like it's his own couch, hoping that his calm demeanor will rub off on the other. It must have some affect, because in the next second Hongjoong is hurrying over, sitting cross legged right beside him. Now that they’re alone, and everything is still, Seonghwa really drinks in the sight of him. He’s overwhelmed by how much just looking at Hongjoong is enough to squeeze tight and fierce in his chest, fondness making him want to rub his thumb under his smudged eyeliner. He’s amazed at how easy it is for him to accept that that’s something he wants to do, and he doesn’t want to cower from it. So without thinking too hard, he reaches out, his thumb brushing over the outer corner of Hongjoong’s left eye, lightly wiping the stray mark. Hongjoong tenses, and then lets a slow breath leave his mouth.

“Are you nervous?” Seonghwa asks, stroking his thumb over Hongjoong’s cheek now. 

The other man nuzzles into it, bringing his hand up to cradle Seonghwa’s as he presses a quick kiss to his palm. “The uh, alcohol usually loosens my tongue, makes me feel more brave. I’m not quite sure how to act when I’m completely sober around a pretty boy I really like.”

Well, Seonghwa can relate to that. It’s been too long since he’s felt like this. Too long since he’s had someone who reciprocates his feelings, too long since he’s talked to someone, touched someone like this. It’s nice, but his heart is begging to be released from behind his rib cage. “If it helps any,” he says, voice soft, “I really like you too. And… I’m a bit nervous as well.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen a little, his hand squeezing Seonghwa’s fingers. “Why are you nervous?”

Seonghwa sits back against the couch and looks up at the ceiling. It’s textured with meaningless lines that curl and twist and don’t seem to start or end anywhere. His eyes try to follow the path of a group of lines, but there’s too many other lines around them and his eyes grow tired. “It’s going to sound dumb, but… I don’t want to ruin this. I know _this_ isn’t hardly anything yet, I mean we’ve only seen each other a few times. But it feels special. You feel special. I’ve never felt so instantly comfortable around someone before.”

“I know what you mean,” Hongjoong says, placing another kiss on Seonghwa’s palm, this one longer than the last. “Like when you meet someone and you’re automatically friends, and you know that you’ll be friends for a while.” He pulls Seonghwa’s hand away from his face, moving it up into his soft hair. “But even so… I’m nervous.”

Seonghwa smiles. “We can talk about anything you want. To distract you,” he suggests, copying Hongjoong’s idea from earlier.

“Ok,” Hongjoong agrees, and Seonghwa keeps his hand at the side of Hongjoong’s head, petting him. “I’m not in college,” he says, surprising Seonghwa with his choice of topic. “I work at an art shop during the weekdays and I make music to post online or sell.” That makes sense to Seonghwa, remembering the instruments that are in Hongjoong’s room. He can picture Hongjoong working at an art store, too, helping someone find the paints that they need.

“You’ll have to let me listen to your music some time. And I’ll visit you at work,” Seonghwa says, to which Hongjoong hums.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I go to college. I work at the student help center in the mornings before my classes. It pays enough for me to afford my half of rent and wifi, but it’s kind of boring.”

“Why did you go to college?” Hongjoong asks, and that question surprises him as well.

_Because that’s what you’re supposed to do after high school_ , is the first thought that his brain supplies him with. Except he knows that’s not true for everyone, evidently not true for Hongjoong. He doesn’t want to offend him. “I had to,” is what he settles with instead.

Hongjoong reaches up to where Seonghwa’s hand is buried in his hair and brushes his small fingers over the veins that are visible on Seonghwa’s inner wrist. “Is it because your parents wanted you to?” he asks.

Yes, but… there’s something else there too. Seonghwa is a worrier, so he’s a planner. He worries about his future, so he attends his classes and hopes they’ll lead him somewhere beyond a degree. College doesn’t guarantee a future career, he knows, but it’s a brief distraction from his uncertain career path. “Sort of. I just… I had to,” he repeats, not ready to spill every insecurity in front of Hongjoong just yet. 

The other man hums. “I like being able to think about what you do during the day. I can see you in a lecture hall, taking notes. Being a good boy and listening to your professor.” He presses a kiss to Seonghwa’s wrist, the warmth of his tongue searing on his cold skin. “Seonghwa?” he says lightly, and then he presses another kiss against his forearm.

“Hm?”

“I’m not as nervous anymore.”

“Me neither.” He’s shaking, the slightest almost undetectable tremor, but he doesn’t think that will go away any time soon.

“Can I kiss you?” Hongjoong asks, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and wetting it with his tongue.

Seonghwa lets out a shuddering breath, pushing his fingers through Hongjoong’s hair and then back behind his ear, the strands getting caught for a moment on his piercings. “Please.” 

In one smooth movement, Hongjoong swings one leg into Seonghwa’s lap so that he’s straddling his thigh and then he brings their mouths together. 

Hongjoong’s lips are sweet and soft. That’s the first thing that Seonghwa thinks as he cautiously brushes Hongjoong’s bottom lip with his tongue. He’s probably wearing some kind of candy flavored chapstick. The first kiss is soft and slow, and Hongjoong is pulling away before long, smiling and resting his forehead against Seonghwa’s. His heart feels like it’s going to burst. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time we met. I was a mess but you were so kind to me. I don’t remember much, but I remember you held me when I was cold and you called me baby.” Seonghwa smiles, feeling lightheaded in the best way, and presses a kiss to the underside of Hongjoong’s jaw. The smaller man hums and tilts his head back so Seonghwa starts on a path of open kisses down his throat. He can feel Hongjoong’s rapid pulse under his tongue.

Hongjoong continues speaking, his words a bit breathier now. “I always meant to, _ah_ … thank you for being a gentleman. Not taking advantage of me.”

Seonghwa pulls away despite Hongjoong’s sound of protest. “That’s quite a low bar, Hongjoong, you don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I know it is, but still. There’s a lot of assholes out there. I’m glad it was you.”

That makes Seonghwa’s heart beat even faster. At this rate, he’s sure he’ll break a rib. “I’m glad it was me, too.”

Hongjoong huffs out a short laugh, pushing through the serious moment. “Ok, now that it’s just us…” he says, his fingers pushing underneath Seonghwa’s thin tank top. “Can I see?” At Seonghwa’s nod, he pushes the material up enough so that most of Seonghwa’s stomach is on display. “Damn, that’s pretty,” he says, leaning back to really take in the sight of Seonghwa. His hands skim over the chain again, and then he pushes his fingers under it, his nails scraping at Seonghwa’s abs. “You’re so pretty, Seonghwa.”

He has to swallow harshly to keep himself from crying over the awe in Hongjoong’s voice. Instead of answering with some shy or lame response, Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong back to him, gently capturing his lips again. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to be in the mood for gentle though, a hand coming up to yank at Seonghwa’s hair, his head tilting back. Hongjoong shifts up onto his knees and uses the leverage to kiss Seonghwa deep and forcefully, his tongue hot against Seonghwa’s. This is what he has been craving. Being totally immersed in the other boy, all of his senses overpowered by him until it’s all he can feel, all he can think. He’s drunk on the sensations; the way that Hongjoong’s tongue brushes the roof of his mouth, making him shudder. The way their breaths mix, hot and damp. 

Hongjoong pulls away from his mouth slowly, leaving a few feather light kisses to his lips before moving over to his ear. Seonghwa overcomes the urge to squirm away from Hongjoong’s warm breath and is rewarded by his tongue and teeth at his earlobe. He runs his hands up Hongjoong’s thighs, traveling up his jeans and under his skirt. 

“I really like this,” he says quietly, aware of how rough and deep his voice has gotten. “You look so sexy in this skirt.”

“Yeah?” Hongjoong whispers into his ear, and Seonghwa can feel his smile. Butterflies erupt in his stomach as Hongjoong leans back, looking at him from under his long lashes. “Don’t move,” he says, and to Seonghwa’s dismay, the smaller man climbs off of his lap and stands up. He doesn’t have time to protest, because Hongjoong is reaching underneath his skirt and unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down his legs and stepping out of the piled up fabric. 

This is it. Seonghwa is going to pass out because Hongjoong is standing there in a skirt that falls mid thigh with his gorgeous legs exposed. He can’t stare for as long as he’d like to because Hongjoong is climbing into his lap, settling himself back on Seonghwa’s thigh. Yep, he’s definitely going to pass out. 

“This is ok, right?” Hongjoong asks shyly. Seonghwa closes his mouth (which he’d apparently let fall open at some point) and nods quickly.

“Yep, yeah, very much ok. _God_ , you’re so-“ Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip to stop the tumble of ungraceful words. He pushes his hands up Hongjoong’s bare thighs, squeezing a little before adventuring under his skirt again and skimming his fingers over the thin material of the briefs that Hongjoong’s wearing. His thighs jump and shake a little under his exploring touch. 

“Fuck, Joong, look at you. So perfect for me, hm?” Seonghwa coos, squeezing his thighs as he leans forward and kisses him again. 

Hongjoong groans high in his throat, twisting his fingers in Seonghwa’s tank top. Seonghwa thinks that every sound that the other makes is so _endearing_ , no matter how suggestive they are. Every pant, gasp, and sigh makes Seonghwa’s heart jump and stomach twist. He’s trying to memorize every sound, lock them away to keep and replay whenever he wants. When he wraps his lips around Hongjoong’s tongue and sucks on it, the other gasps and his hips jerk forward. Seonghwa is on cloud nine.

“Sorry,” Hongjoong mumbles, his face coloring warm and pink before he hides it against Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“Why are you sorry?” Seonghwa asks, taking his hands out from under Hongjoong’s skirt to grab his hips. “Here, let me help you, baby.” Hongjoong draws back and opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by Seonghwa pushing his hips down and pulling him forward, giving him friction against his thigh.

“Oh fuck,” Hongjoong gasps, the embarassment slowly fading from his face.

“Use me like this, yeah?” Seonghwa purrs, making sure to bring his thigh up a little every time Hongjoong’s hips circle down. He can feel how affected Hongjoong is by the action, and that makes his lungs feel tight and arousal burn bright and hot in his gut. He loves the way that Hongjoong’s skirt looks splayed over his thigh, the fabric moving with them. “You can use me however you want, I’ll give you anything you want.”

Hongjoong kisses him again, slow and deep so that spit pools at the corners of their mouths. Seonghwa knows he’s getting a little desperate though, he can feel it in the jerky movements of his hips and the sporadic pants against his lips. “I want you Seonghwa. Want you so bad,” he says, placing chaste kisses along his jaw and throat. 

Seonghwa feels him everywhere, from the tips of his toes and fingers to the very core of him. “You have me, baby, just tell me what you need.”

Seonghwa does not believe in a higher power. However, in this moment, he feels that something lead him here. Not exactly here as in on a soft yet worn couch, a beautiful boy riding his thigh and panting into his mouth (although that is a very nice place to be). Seonghwa feels, deeply in every bone and nerve and cell in his body, that he was meant to find Hongjoong. Whether it’s to have him in his life for only a brief moment or for years and years to come, it’s as if something clicked into place that first night they met. 

So as Hongjoong groans that he needs Seonghwa to take him to the bedroom and fuck him, Seonghwa sends up a quick thanks to whatever could be out there, just in case. Be it god, or karma, or just the forces of the universe, it doesn’t matter to him. He’s here now, and it’s exactly where he wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading!! Sorry for the abrupt ending, I couldn't bring myself to write a sex scene. You can use your imagination lol. Remember to vote for ATEEZ on the SMA app and give them support however you can! Ok, stay safe, wear your mask, and have a lovely day/night <3
> 
> Find me on twitter @joongbug_arts to yell at me about ATEEZ! I make art sometimes, too


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